My favorite subway line of recent weeks. A short, stocky man in his late fifties, wearing a woollen cap and sweatpants. A high voice, Capote-esque, if Truman had been Brooklyn born. He was talking to a pasty-faced redhead slumped across from him. She was about twice his size. Retired, he still dabbled in part-time employment every so often:
"I just get to sit down and tell them to shut up. It's perfect for me."